My Guardian Demon
by C.M. Oliver is eastwoodgirl
Summary: Season 2. AU. Kurt Never left McKinley and is being bullied relentlessly. Until one day, he meets a new mysterious student who always seems to show up in his time of need. Who is he? Demon! Blaine Mortal! Kurt
1. PROLOGUE: ANEW

**My Guardian Demon**

**WARNING: Rated M for Mature Themes to be encountered in future chapters, Angst and Tragedy…**

**DISCLAIMER: GLEE is not mine. Any OC that would make an appearance are the product of my chocolate-deprived imagination.**

**Prologue: Anew**

**010101010**

(England 1800's)

A man ran as fast as he could along a deserted dirt trail that came through a dense forest. He had been running for almost an hour now, and yet, he did not know from whom of what he is exactly running from. All he knew was that he needed to get away.

The farther he reached into the heart of the lush, green forest though, the more he felt as if he has being drawn into the spider's web –he couldn't escape, no matter what he did.

And yet, he continued running. His vision grew darker as the growth of plants and trees grew denser. Protruding branches scratched his exposed pale skin and pulled at his otherwise pristine clothing. He had always preferred to look noble and dignified; now he looked like a downright mess, but he could not care at all. Not when he was fleeing for dear life, he thought. The man continued running, not knowing when and where to stop.

'_Celestine, I will avenge you,'_

That moment of vulnerability that crossed his reveries caused the man to lose his concentration. He did not see a tree root rising out of the ground in his path. The man tripped and fell on the ground face down.

It did not hurt –not that he can feel the impact. His lip was cut, hitting a sharp rock –not that it bled.

But he was in pain. Deep, terrible, ugly pain.

He cried, the only human thing that was left in him. Tears fell from his hazel brown eyes.

'_Celestine, I will find you, and when I do, I will never let you go.'_

The man then closed his eyes as he remembered his lost love: her angelic smile, her deep blonde hair that fell to her waist, her eyes that were like the ocean on a clear summer's day, her voice that made his non-existent heart skip a beat every time she laughed or sang or simply said his name.

"_**I love you, Blaine…"**_

She had loved him, even if he was not meant to be loved. HE loved her back, with all that he had. But that love cost her, her very life.

The man clenched his fists tightly as those horrible images crossed his thoughts once more.

"_**Blaine, please…"**_

She had begged for her life, but there was noting that he could do. They made him watch her lode every last bit of her breath.

"_**I love you, Blaine, always…"**_

Those were her last words. Up until the very end, she had loved him –he who was the cause of her demise.

A fresh spring of tears welled up in the man's eyes as he stood up.

'_I love you too Celestine, forever…'_

The man started to run once more, his resolve, anew. And as he did so, with every step, he whispered the name of his lost love. It was almost dusk when he began running into the heart of the woods; by the time had had reached the other end, it was already sunrise.

The man took a moment to admire the spectacle that unfolded right before his eyes.

Brilliant rays of yellow light fought with the deep blue that the last night left –until the darkness was subdued, and then consumed by the emerging ball of flames.

The man thought that he had never seen anything so beautiful – come to think of it, he had never witnessed sunrise before today. But, witness it, he did. He stole a glance at the darkness he came from. He belonged there –it was his nature, his refuge, his being. Then he glanced at the rising sun –the light, the warmth, everything he was not, everything that Celestine was. Hell, it was a no-brainer. He knew there will come a time that he would regret this very day; that his past would come back and haunt him. But now, nothing mattered more than finding her. He knew it would take him several lifetimes –but what was a thousand years to him who knew no life nor death?

' _I will find you Celestine, I will wait for you…'_

**010101010**

**A/N: A new fic, yeah! So short, I know. But this is just a prologue. I'm just trying to see if there is enough interest for a story like this. I know demon Blaine has been done before, but I would really like to give it a different, more human, more personal approach/ treatment.**

**So, if you would like to see this story come to life, please say so in a review. Inputs and feedback are greatly appreciated. TEN is the magic number. If I get at least 10 reviews to ask me to continue, I would gladly do so. If not, well, I'll just update this whenever I get the urge… probably in a year or so… Until next time! Love, Eastwoodgirl.**


	2. Chapter 1: Settling

**My Guardian Demon**

**A/N: I am deeply, deeply overwhelmed with your support and interest for this story. Thanks. Enjoy and don't forget to review!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, nothing I tell you!**

**CHAPTER 1: Settling**

**01101010**

[Present day, Lima, OH]

A seemingly endless expanse of brick walls greeted him as he stepped out of his 1967 black Camarro. He had his car parked next to a chain-linked fence and right next to a pearl-blue station wagon. He then reached for his newly purchased back pack from the passenger seat and slung it over one shoulder –it was a foreign sensation, no matter how many times he has done it in the past. The cheap neon green nylon material was appalling –against the pristine crisp white cotton of his button down shirt and the fitted cropped black velvet vest that he had on –but it was necessary. Flexing his neck muscles, he allowed himself to relax. But for some reason, no matter how much he tried to remind himself that this was not the first time he was to do this, he just couldn't help but feel a tad jittery.

'_Could this be it?'_

He shut the driver's side door close and pocketed the car keys in his washed black denim jeans and for a second, thought that they were the best clothing invention ever –why couldn't they have been available 200 years ago?

He shook his head and glanced at his watch. He still had to meet with the school principal for his class schedule. He tightened his grip on the strap of his bag and placed his other hand inside the pocket of his pants.

He bowed his head down as he began walking towards the two-storey building complex, trying not to attract attention; but he wouldn't have it his way. He cannot see them, but he could feel their eyes o him.

He ran his fingers through his wild dark curls to try and foster a sense of calm in his nerves. The last thing he wanted was to blow up at somebody, and in the process, attract more unwanted attention.

As he entered the main hall, his hazel eyes searched for signs to follow to the principal's office. There were none.

'_Seriously?'_ He asked himself, astonished. He checked his watch once more -it was an elegant silver piece, Swiss-made, way back from 1950's – he had no time to spare wandering around aimlessly. His eyes searched further, before deciding to seek assistance from a small brunette who had a picture of a reindeer on the front of her shirt.

"Excuse me," he began, his voice deep and certain. "Can you tell me where the principal's office is?"

The brunette turned around to face him, a huge Cheshire cat grin plastered on her face. He backed away slightly.

"You must be new here," she said cheerfully, holding her hand out. "I'm Rachel Berry."

He eyed the hand warily before deciding that a small brunette couldn't exactly pose a threat to him. He took the hand rather gingerly and shook it once before letting go without speaking. The girl frowned.

"Um, aren't you even going to tell me your name? If you're new here, maybe I can show you around –or better yet, you can join Glee club! We are always looking for people who can sway in the background while I sing my solos –"

He shuddered inwardly. The girl was a chatterbox. And she wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

'_My instincts are taking a nose-dive,'_ he thought as he began walking away. _'Next time, try to approach somebody who doesn't sound like they swallowed a recording of an infomercial,'_

"Hey, wait!" The girl called from behind him. He let out a deep breath before turning around to face her, his hazel eyes fixed in a glare. The girl shrank back.

'_Good to know I still got it,'_ he smiled to himself.

"Uh, the principal's office is down the hall, to your right, the first door," the girl said timidly.

He nodded his thanks and walked away, smiling to himself. Following her instructions, he stopped in front of a mahogany door that bore the sign: J.L. Figgins, school principal. Remembering his manners, he knocked. A muffled 'come in' bade him to enter. He huffed before pushing the door open. A small man with dark skin and a receding hairline greeted him from behind an ornate desk cluttered with stacks of papers.

"Good morning, you must be Mr. Anderson," the man said, his accent thick and heavy. "We have been expecting you, have a seat."

Removing his backpack from his shoulder, he took a seat.

"My name is Blaine Anderson," he said curtly. "I came for my class schedules."

"Ah, yes," Principal Figgins reached for a folder in his drawer. "Well, Mr. Anderson, I must say that I am impressed with your academic records. We receive transferees her in McKinley High all the tie, but never have we encountered a student such as yourself –"

Blaine sighed. He should have seen this coming.

"Really sir, I mean no disrespect, but –"

"You have attended schools in London, Paris, Cairo, Manila –"

"Shanghai, Stockholm and Brussels," Blaine finished for him. "I know sir. My guardian is a businessman who has several endeavors all around the globe, hence the need for me to constantly travel with him. I took my freshman year I three continents –I would just want to finish my senior year in peace and quiet."

Figgins raised his eyebrows and appraised the young man in front of him.

"Surely Mr. Anderson, you have –"

"Please sir, my schedule?" Blaine held his hand out rather impatiently. Figgins sighed and closed the folder.

"Very well," he reached for another sheet of paper. "Here are your classes: Spanish, AP Physics, Government and History, Trigonometry, Gym and two electives of your choice –I'll give you a week to decide on those before we finalize your schedule. Are there any other questions?"

"No sir, thank you." Blaine nodded and exited the principal's office. He glanced at the time table in his hands. He had first period Spanish under Mr. W. Schuster, which was due in 15 minutes. He began walking towards the direction of the classrooms when he was greeted by a loud slam. It was in the locker area to his right. He took a detour to see what it was about. He frowned at what he saw.

Three boys all in red letterman jackets that said 'Titans' at the back were surrounding a smaller boy wearing a neat-looking cream-colored coat that blended nicely with his rosy complexion. The boy had deep dark blonde hair that was swept up in a perfect coif. He had a leather mailman bag slung across his chest and he hugged his books protectively against him. Blaine approached the scene slowly until he could hear them perfectly.

"What is wrong with you, Karofsky?" the small boy spat out angrily.

'_That voice,' _Blaine thought. He closed his eyes as he moved in closer.

"Nothing's wrong with me," The one called Karofsky smirked. "I am not the faggot!" He then reached for the smaller boy and rammed him once more against the lockers. Blaine cringed at the sound and immediately opened his eyes. Karofsky and his lackeys were laughing. Blaine chanced a glance at the smaller boy. He knew that he was in pain. Blaine knew that he had to help him; he moved in closer, prepared to tell off the three hoodlums, but as soon as his eyes fell on that of the smaller boy's, he froze.

'_Those eyes,'_ Blaine couldn't believe himself. He stood frozen as he watched the scene progress. The smaller boy stood his ground and brushed his clothes off angrily.

"Takes one to know one, Karofsky."

Karofsky's face morphed into a look of rage. He raised his fist, ready to strike the small boy.

"Why you –"

**010101010**

A quick hand came from behind Karofsky and interrupted his fist. Dave Karofsky turned to face the bastard who dared to interrupt him, and was immediately accosted by a pair of smoldering hazel eyes, that upon closer inspection, showed tinges of fiery red. He snarled at the dark-haired stranger who possessed them.

"What do you think you're doing?" Karofsky tried to free his hand from the dark-haired guy's grip, to no avail.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size –and brain capacity?" A deep, velvety voice escaped the stranger's lips. Karofsky felt pain shoot up from his hand. The bastard held his left hand in a vice-like grip.

"Who the hell are you?" Karofsky said, trying hard to conceal the fear he was feeling from the sheer power and dominance that seem to radiate from the guy who stopped him. The guy merely glared. Dave Karofsky yanked his hand away once more in fear. He looked over to his lackeys who were poised to strike the stranger.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the dark-haired stranger said darkly. Karofsky and his lackeys were stumped –unable to move all of a sudden. The stranger spoke once more.

"You know what? I hate bullies like you. You make me sick."

"Who the hell are you?" The three bullies shouted. They were still unable to move, fear, clearly etched in their eyes. Whether it was about the fact that they couldn't move or because of the glare the stranger in front of them gave them, they couldn't decide. They were just plain scared.

"Who the hell am I?" The stranger smiled." Blaine Anderson. And you're right, I came from hell. Now get lost!"

With those words. The three goons felt their limbs once more and fled, but not before yelling 'freak' and giving Blaine the dirty finger. Blaine just laughed.

"Thank you," Somebody behind him said.

There was that voice again. Blaine spun around.

'_Those eyes… as clear as the ocean on a warm summer's day…'_

Blaine felt his non-existent heart skip a beat. He cannot be mistaken…

'_Celestine!'_

**010101010**

**A.N: You know the drill. 10 reviews people. Thanks for reading! Until next time! –Eastwoodgirl**


	3. Chapter 2: Visions

**My Guardian Demon**

**DISCLAIMER: The author does not claim ownership of the characters used in this fictional story, nor does she intend to make money out of it. Any concept, entity and the like that you recognize belong to their specific owners. This story was written and published for the purpose of entertainment only. Thank you and enjoy.**

**Recommended Soundtrack: I Have Nothing (GLEE version) –on repeat. Just because.**

**Chapter 2: Visions**

**010101010**

'_Celestine'_

Blaine could not believe his eyes. Surely, the long hair was replaced by a more androgynous, cropped look, but those eyes… oh, he knew those eyes anywhere. He moved closer, his arms poised to reach what he thought was an elaborate mirage that constantly would haunt him in his dreams. And in those dreams, whenever he would try and touch her, she would always dissolve into bubbles… then one by one, those bubbles would pop into non-existence.

But this vision was different.

As soon as Blaine's hands touched a bare patch of ivory skin, a surge of electricity passed through his entire body.

It was no vision.

It was real. Blaine looked at his hands then back at the ethereal being in front of him.

"Celestine?" he asked tentatively.

An amused chuckle greeted his ears.

"Dear no, not even close." The boy held his hand out. "Kurt Hummel"

Blaine frowned at the hand being offered then back at Kurt. The boy smiled at him.

"Don't they do handshakes in hell? You said you're from hell right? We get a lot of those here in Lima," he teased. Blaine realized that he was probably gaping and took Kurt's hand and shook it. Blue green eyes lit up.

"Good job devil boy, or should I say demon boy?" He then said, mock-patronizing. Blaine was still too shocked to say anything. How could this –this boy –be not Celestine? Blaine felt it, he knew he did –that pull, that urge he had been waiting for so long… How could this –Kurt –how could he not have felt it? By the time that the dark-haired boy was uot of his stupor, he saw Kurt eyeing him rather queerly.

"Well, Blaine Anderson, thank you for playing the knight to my damsel in distress, but I assure you, there was no need. Those three goons are no more dragons than I am a redhead."

"No –no problem," Blaine sighed. He needed more time to process things. It has been a while since he felt that jolt –not since Celestine died –and it wouldn't do him very well if he scared Celes –no, Kurt, with his incessant staring. Kurt started to walk away. Blaine felt another sudden pull.

"Wait!"

Kurt spun around gracefully and raised one perfectly arched eyebrow in silent question. Blaine smile slightly.

'_That expression! Celestine or not…'_

"I'm new here, where to –to go to Spanish class?"

**010101010**

Exactly 10 minutes later, Blaine eased into a desk beside Kurt on the left most side of the classroom, third row from the front. An Asian boy took the other seat on Kurt's right side. The boy's onyx eyes met his own hazel ones and smiled. Blaine allowed himself to relax. He could not sense any danger nor ill-intention coming from him. He then turned his attention to Kurt.

"Is the teacher always late?"

Kurt looked at him briefly then at the wall clock above the blackboard.

"Not really, it's Monday. Mr. Schue's probably stuck in a faculty meeting or something."

"Mr. Schue?"

"The teacher. We call him Mr. Schue. He's very nice… if not a little too overbearing at times."

"I see," Blaine took his spreadsheet out and showed it to Kurt. "Would you mind suggesting two electives for me? And perhaps a club?" He asked the boy hopefully. Kurt looked surprised.

"I know you're new here –but, what makes you think you'd enjoy the classes I would pick out for you?"

Blaine grinned.

"I just know that I would."

Kurt shrugged.

"Okay, just don't blame me if –"

"I won't."

A few minutes later, Blaine was already decided on Art 100 and Creative Writing 10. He would be attending both classes with Kurt, apart from Spanish and to his surprise, Gym."

"What's Gym for us this year?" Blaine asked curiously. "It didn't say on my transfer packet."

Kurt wrinkled his nose.

"Swimming."

Blaine smiled.

"Hydrophobic?"

Kurt threw him an 'are-you-kidding-me' look.

"Spandex."

"Ah," Blaine nodded somberly. Kurt caught his look.

"Did you just mock me, Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine let out a quiet chuckle.

"I might have." The response earned him a playful tap on his arm.

"Flirt," Kurt whispered.

"Only you," Blaine said quietly, staring into those gorgeous blue-green eyes.

Kurt blushed and looked away. Blaine thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful. Maybe all hope was not lost. He can tell it. His non-existent heart recognized this feeling.

A different name, a different time, heck, a different gender even…. But **this** was Celestine.

Kurt was Celestine.

His Celestine.

Just as Blaine was about to call Kurt's attention again, an adult male entered the room. This must be the teacher, Mr. Schuester… or as Kurt called him, Mr. Schue. Blaine tried to lock his eyes with the man. A few seconds later, he concluded that the curly-haired teacher posed no threat.

**010101010**

Forty minutes later, Kurt and Blaine exited the Spanish classroom. Kurt huffed.

"I admire Mr. Schue for all he's worth but, seriously, him and Spanish don't mix."

"It would be hard to teach a language if you are not a native speaker." Blaine agreed. Both of them were now headed to their second period classes: Trigonometry for Kurt, AP Physics for Blaine. They walked together in silence until they have reached the junction. Kurt was to turn left, and Blaine, right.

"Well," Kurt breathed. "Thanks for what you did this morning and for making Spanish more enjoyable. I guess I'll see –"

Blaine held Kurt's arm back.

"Can I see you for lunch?"

Kurt blushed again.

"You don't – are you sure? I mean, I'm not exactly one of the popular ones on campus. I assure you, I'm more of a liability than an asset."

Blaine frowned.

"Do people bother you a lot?" He asked darkly.

Kurt looked at him and sighed.

"You're new here Blaine, you have no idea how dangerous it is to be at the bottom of the social food chain –"

"I can handle myself, Kurt," Blaine said intently. All of a sudden, Kurt felt an obscure wave of power emanating from the dark-haired boy.

"I know you can, Blaine, judging from what effect you had on Karofsky and his thugs, but –"

"Nothing's going to keep me away from you now, Kurt."

Kurt's eyes shot up. Something in the tone that Blaine had used seemed familiar to him. All morning, the countertenor had been constantly hounded by thoughts… vibrations… visions… whenever Blaine would look directly into his eyes or touch him or even just speak to him. It sounded weird, but for some reason, Blaine felt very familiar to him even if he had just met the latter about an hour ago. He shook his head mentally.

'_I just need coffee,'_ Kurt tried to reason out. _'I missed my morning mocha… that and Blaine was the first ever guy who dared walk with me through the halls of McKinley, saved me from Karofsky and who wanted to eat lunch with me. That's just it!'_

Kurt brought his attention back to the boy he had just met, enjoyed the company of in the last hour, and had practically asked him out on a lunch date –all in one day. Blaine had a mild, hopeful expression on his face. But his hazel eyes burned with something that Kurt thought was akin to passion –an entirely different story.

Blaine Anderson was an enigma, Kurt decided. He himself wanted things simple, but something told him that things will never be the same again after today. He let out a deep breath and turned to Blaine.

"Spending time with me, entails one major investment'"

Blaine looked at him quizzically.

"What?"

Kurt smiled serenely.

"Goggles."

**010101010**

**Reviews are appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 3: The Blunt and The Beautiful

**My Guardian Demon**

**P/N: Hey, Darwin here. Nope, your computer is not defective. This is a legit update for eastwoodgirl's story in less than 72 hours since the last one. No, she is not aware that we, her friends, are doing this for her in light of her current situation (she's bedridden, without access to a computer for three weeks now. The poor girl.) Anyway, the last update was done by our other friend Madison (who hates typing; I noticed that she did not introduce herself in the previous chapter. Anyhow she does not do fanfiction… so… I guess that doesn't matter, but we thank her.) Anyway, please continue reviewing. My friend Chesca (eastwoodgirl to you guys) may still not be up to replying to your reviews but she does read them one by one whenever she has time and appreciates them very much. If you have a pressing question though, I'll try my best to answer them for you (I'm quite privy to some behind-the-scenes secrets to some of her works –the perks of being friends with the author.) Enough rambling. Without further ado, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

_SOUNDTRACK_**: **_Teenage Dream __by__The Dalton Academy Warblers_** (^_^)**

**DISCLAIMER: We do not own anything.**

**Chapter 3: The Blunt and the Beautiful**

**010101010**

The bell rang, signaling the end of third period. Blaine rushed outside of his history class. The class was a bore; the teacher, Mrs. Kipling, forgot half of the dates she was rambling on and on about and sounded as if Frankenstein decided to become a teacher. If anything was ever more annoying than that, Blaine found out, was the fact that the brunette chatterbox he had encountered earlier was in his History class. When she entered the room, she saw Blaine and immediately approached him. Blaine saw this and threw her a piercing glare. The brunette bobbed away, seeing his expression and instead took a seat next to a tall and burly-looking boy, wearing a plaid flannel shirt that had seen the wash one too many times. The brunette leaned over and kissed the guy o the cheek.

'_Figures,'_ Blaine thought.

History was a useless class for him. He had lived through history and could probably teach more on the subject effortlessly. But he needed this slam-dunk easy-A class.

'_Kurt,'_

Since first seeing the boy, Blaine's thoughts were filled with nothing but him. It was hard not to think of Kurt as Celestine, but the dark-haired boy figured that if he did not want to scare him away, he would have to take things slow.

'_Demon boy,'_ Blaine smiled. _'He called me demon boy,'_ surely, it was in jest, but what would he give to see Kurt's reaction upon finding out the truth.

Now, Blaine was headed towards the left wing of the school where Kurt had his third period Home Economics. He was given directions earlier when they agreed to meet up for lunch. Blaine practically ran towards the entrance to room 1301 after seeing it open. His eyes excitedly scanned the room for the object of his affection.

'_Affection?'_ he thought. There was no question that he had loved Celestine. But Kurt… although he was sure that Kurt was Celestine, Kurt was still… different. He was male for one thing; although he had no problem with that, Blaine did not know if Kurt wouldn't mind.

At the same time, he was like Celestine; he was gentle and innocent, like a puff of cumulus clouds; He was fiery and feisty and full of life –like a candle burning brightly on a dark winter night…

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Blaine looked up. He did not notice that his mind had wandered off. He forced a smile.

"Hey Kurt,"

"Ready for lunch?"

Blaine nodded. He slung his backpack over both of his shoulders and reached out for the books that Kurt carried in his arms. Kurt gave him a quizzical look.

"Modern day chivalry?"

Blaine smiled.

"Something like that."

Kurt snorted.

"Next thing I know, you'd be opening doors for me.

Blaine did not say anything and just kept smiling. And when they both finally got to the cafeteria doors… he rushed ahead of Kurt and opened it for the boy with a mock bow.

"Here you go, oh fair one…beauty before age."

Kurt gave him an amused look before walking through the open doors. When Kurt was already in, Blaine followed suit. Kurt turned to him as he approached.

"You're amusing, you know?" Kurt told him.

"You're beautiful,: Blaine replied back, still smiling, causing Kurt to turn pink yet again.

"You, Mr. Anderson, are very blunt."

"Just honest,"

Kurt stopped walking.

"Just –just tell me –why are you so –so –being nice to me, Blaine?" Kurt asked exasperatedly. Blaine looked at him, for the first time in his long life, unsure of what to say, or how to say it without scaring the boy.

"I like you Kurt."

Kurt's eyes were wide like saucers.

"You… WHAT?"

The attention of the whole cafeteria turned towards the countertenor. Kurt felt eyes on him. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

'_No Kurt, you did not just hear this gorgeous and possibly not-so-straight guy in front of you tell you that you are beautiful and that he likes you –because if he did, all hell would've broken loose and the demons would be crawling all over the school!'_

Kurt sighed. Blaine stared at him with a concerned look on his handsome face.

"Kurt? Did I say something wrong?"

Kurt wanted to scream right in the middle of the crowded cafeteria –instead, he bit his lip. Blaine moved closer. He reached out and let his right thumb ghost over Kurt's lower lip. As he made the connection, he felt that sudden rush of electricity once more. And judging from Kurt's surprised look, he felt it too.

"I –I need to go to the boy's room," Kurt excused himself and stormed out of the cafeteria without another word. He was out of the doors before Blaine could even register what had happened.

**010101010**

'_Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!'_

Kurt rushed towards the nearest bathroom and locked himself in the stall farthest from the entrance. He then hung his bag on the hook provided and sat on the closed toilet seat. Without even meaning to, he found his right forefinger touching the spot Blaine's thumb had caressed, just a little while ago. Kurt closed his eyes.

'_The world has gone mad.'_

**010101010**

Blaine ran after Kurt.

'_Fuck, I've messed up!'_ He scolded himself. He carried his feet pretty quick, but it seemed that Kurt was a track star in an Alexander McQueen leather coat. He lost him in the middle of the hallway. Blaine sighed and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures. He closed his eyes and trained his heightened senses to find Kurt. Since his last close encounter with people from his "shady past," twenty-five years ago, he had worked hard to suppress his demonic abilities. But now, it was no question. Screw the risks. He will protect Celestine –no, Kurt –with all that he got –something he should have done all those lifetimes ago.

Blaine then felt a strong pull towards the left wing.

'_Kurt, I will never let go of you again. I promise.'_

**010101010**

A pair of blue eyes surveyed the not-so impressive façade of red bricks and smirked.

'_Perfect for a hideout… almost.'_

He then began to walk towards the tow-storey building complex, anticipation almost leaking through his pores. His orders from the elders were clear: retrieve and exterminate.

It had been more than two decades since the last time they had made a move. Their target had been almost too careful…

But apparently, not careful enough.

The slip up this morning cost him two decades of peace and anonymity.

But the blue-eyed man couldn't be thankful enough. It made his job easy. AS he entered the building, he immediately threw up a mask. It wouldn't do well for his target to sense him, now that the boy –no man's senses were active once more. He then surveyed the scene quickly; a number of students were milling about, all caught up I their own little worlds –clearly unaware of danger, right at their midst.

The blue-eyed man smiled.

Humans were too complacent.

Humans were too weak.

They had emotions –that was their ultimate flaw.

The man then adjusted the tinted aviators he had on and brushed an invisible speck of lint off of his black denim jacket.

How humans managed to survive all this time remained a mystery to him.

As he cruised along the corridors, he felt eyes on him –curious glances and appreciative stares alike –most especially from that ditzy blue-eyed blonde that happened to pass by.

The man could not help but smile to himself. If only his preference swung that way, then maybe he would oblige her. But then again, he did not have time for it at all. Maybe when he was done cleaning up, he can try and have fun with humans.

But now, he had a dark-haired, hazel-eyed demon to seek and a dark blonde, blue-green-eyed human to dispose of.

Work first. Fun later.

**010101010**

**P/N: OMG! OMG! OMG! Up to now I still can't get over GLEE 3X18! That scene with Kurt singing **_I Have Nothing_** to Blaine… that was just… priceless… *gay boy squeak* If Klaine ever breaks up, I swear, I would just drop dead.**

**Anyway, please let us know what you think of this chapter. Praises or Constructive Criticisms are always welcomed. I will pass them on to eastwoodgirl and we'll answer it if you have questions. Until next time - Darwin**


	5. Chapter 4: Flashbacks

**My Guardian Demon**

**A/N: OMG! Has it really been 2 months? Oh well, apologies to the people who had this on their alerts. Harry Potter had kidnapped my muse and decided to milk it for all its worth. Anyhow, I'm updating this… it will be a bit short because I'm still trying to get a feel for this story again. Reviews are still appreciated. –Chesca**

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**Chapter 4: Flashbacks**

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When Kurt exited the boys' lavatory, he bumped into the last person he expected to see after his 'freak-out' moment in te cafeteria.

"B-Blaine!"

The hazel-eyed boy looked at him in concern.

"Kurt, hey, are you okay? You just stormed out all of a sudden. Did I say something wrong?"

Kurt found himself staring at Blaine's face.

"N-no,' he stammered. "I just –sorry. I wasn't feeling well all of a sudden."

Blaine let out a sigh and smiled slightly.

"For a minute I thought I had offended you or something." He glanced at his watch. "There's still a bit of lunch left –would you like to go back to the cafeteria now?"

Kurt was nodding wordlessly. It was an odd sensation, staring at Blaine now, markedly different from when he looked at him a while ago –almost trance-like. In the span of about five minutes since Kurt stormed out of the cafeteria, there was this peculiar feeling of change with Blaine's aura that he could not quite put his finger on. Blaine was smiling fully now.

"Well, let's go then. I heard that the pizza was –"

Then it happened. Blaine's fingers brushed the nook inside Kurt's left elbow, and that insane jolt of electricity coursed through the countertenor's small body. The circuit surged from his skin all the way through his heart, it seemed. And in that split-second that it did, Kurt Hummel plummeted from the heights of his consciousness all the way down to the deepest, darkest recess of his subconscious mind.

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A grand ballroom manifested itself right before Kurt's eyes. The huge place was dressed in marble and stained glass, bathed in soft, glowing candle light. Soft string music, which he recognized as somewhat vaguely like 'Music of the Night' by Andrew Lloyd Weber was wafting freely from a concealed orchestra. The dance floor which appeared to be made out of glass due to its sheen was decorated by dancing couples. Each pair wore what looked like 18th century stylized outfits, with the men in tights and tail coats and the women in bustles and elaborate headdresses. Each person wore a bejeweled mask, shining beautifully against the pale yellow light.

Kurt found himself mesmerized by the whole commotion. His hands brushed against the railing of the grand staircase he was now descending. When he reached the foot of it, he was accosted by a most interesting sight.

"May I have this dance, fair one?"

"Blaine?"

The hazel-eyed man wore no mask, but his clothes mirrored those of the other gentlemen in the room. He extended his hand towards Kurt and inclined his head ever so slightly.

"May I?"

Kurt felt his cheeks heat up at the attention. He then found himself being led away towards the dance floor.

"I don't dance well," he told Blaine. The dark-haired boy smiled.

"Never fear, love, for you have me."

'_Love?'_Kurt thought, puzzled. _'Did –did I just hear that right?'_ For some reason, the blue-green-eyed countertenor thought it odd that Blaine should address him with such familiarity, but deep within him, he felt nothing that was off at that term of endearment. And as soon as he met the hazel eyes of his dance partner, any question of uncertainty melted away. He began to enjoy himself.

"Enjoying?" came that velvety voice again.

"Very much so, yes," Kurt let himself smile. Blaine returned it.

"I am glad." He pulled Kurt closer towards him. Kurt could smell pine and sandalwood from him. The countertenor closed his eyes.

"I love you, my fair Celestine,"

Kurt opened his eyes.

"Ce-Celestine?" He looked at Blaine with a puzzled expression on his delicate face. Blaine's façade did not register Kurt's unease. Instead, he continued gazing at the blue-eyed boy. Kurt frowned.

"I am not Celestine," he tried to push the dark-haired man away. But Blaine held onto him even tighter.

"Don't fight it, Celestine. You know you belong with me."

"No!" Kurt pulled himself away even harder. "Let me go, Blaine!" He yelled. But Blaine did not seem to hear him. He drew closer to Kurt and looked him directly in the eye.

"I love you Celestine –forever."

Blaine's lips then brushed Kurt's trembling ones ever so gently. The latter found himself melting in the former's gentle but heated ministrations. Kurt's mind became a swirl of psychedelic colors until reason no longer had a part in him. He kissed Blaine back.

"Blaine," he whispered through their connecting lips. "I – I lo –"

Then it came. A hard pull from behind Kurt separated him from the dark-haired, hazel-eyed man. Kurt watched in horror as Blaine's face registered surprise, then inexplicable pain.

"No!" The man shouted as Kurt felt himself being dragged away. A dire feeling of emptiness soon coursed through his heart. He found himself trying to reach for Blaine's outstretched arms.

"Blaine!"

But the pull of the darkness was stronger. Kurt's hands did not even connect with Blaine's fingertips.

"I'm so sorry, Celestine," Blaine was shouting –Kurt did not hear it in his ears, but for some reason, his heart did.

"Blaine!" he called back. The claws of the abyss that were pulling him away from Blaine were ruthless now. And he had barely just had time to see Blaine's face fade out before his vision was completely shrouded by dark, heavy clouds.

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**A/N: See, I told you it was short. Well, I'd still want to know what you think of it. Pretty please? If I get a ton of reviews, I may be urged to write more and update sooner ;) –C.**


	6. Chapter 5: Questions

**MY GUARDIAN DEMON (M; Supernatural/Mystery/Romance; KH/BA; GLEE)**

_**Summary:**_ _**see Prologue**_

_**Disclaimer: see Prologue **_

_**Warnings: see Prologue. Refresher**__: No Beta. Brief mentions of BA/OFC. Violence. Angst. Language. Slash. AU. OOC._

_**Legend: **_ "Dialogue/ Speech" _'Thoughts' __**Flashback **_**Notes**

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**A/N: This is part of my 'Great WIP Update of 2014. As you can see it has been a while since I've touched this particular story so, I can safely say that my writing style has changed. You be the judge if it was for the better or not. Enjoy and don't forget to review! –C.**

P.S. (01/14/14): Reminder: This story is AU Season 2, roughly before Never Been Kissed… before that fateful Glee Club meeting wherein Puck told Kurt to spy on the Warblers. That day never happened.

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**My Guardian Demon**

**By: C.M. Oliver**

**© 2014**

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*****WARNING: In case you missed it: Violence towards the end of this chapter. Please don't kill me. It is necessary to move our plot along.*****

**CHAPTER 5: Questions **

Bright light assaulted Kurt's eyes when he had opened them once more. He blinked a couple of times before his vision completely cleared and found himself staring at a harsh fluorescent lamp directly suspended high above his face.

"Mr. Hummel? Oh good, you're awake now. Your friend would be relieved." Kurt noticed the mild female voice as belonging to Shanna, the school nurse.

"What –what happened?" the junior tried to push himself up from the uncomfortable lying position he was in. The nurse was immediately beside him.

"Mr. Anderson said that you've fainted. I believe you did –he carried you all the way here –"

Kurt found himself suddenly flushing at the thought of fainting in front of Blaine of all people , and then having the dark-haired boy carry him all the way to the clinic.

"Where is Blaine?"

Shanna smiled.

"Just outside, waiting. I tried to shoo him off to his afternoon classes, but he wouldn't budge. I'll inform him that you are already up –I'm sure he will be greatly relieved," she winked at him as he stepped outside the sterile space. Kurt just nodded as he started tidying himself up while the nurse went to see Blaine.

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'_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!'_

Blaine cursed himself as he sat on the empty plastic bench just outside the school clinic. His hazel eyes were closed –but if he did open them at that point, one would find it glowing scarlet.

'_Stupid! You could have gotten him hurt! When will you ever learn?'_

Blaine clenched his fists tightly. He was damn right pissed off at himself –the stark white knuckles on his hands were proof enough.

Of course, of all the stupid things he could do… He turned up his supernatural abilities to be able to locate Kurt quickly when the countertenor had stormed out. It had been a while since Blaine used his powers, so of course, he'd forgotten to block them off again before touching Kurt. Now Kurt was passed out, presumably hurt because Blaine did not protect him from himself. _'Ugly history repeating itself,' _Blaine placed his head in his hands and sighed_. 'Please, not again.'_

The dark-haired demon/young man contemplated on the incident. Kurt had passed out at his mere touch –he wondered if it was his empathic abilities or his clairvoyant ones that the human boy had tapped into. He had hoped that it was neither –for Kurt's sake and his own sanity as well –but he knew that was just wishful thinking.

'_Never again.'_ Blaine told himself. This had been the exact same mistake he had made that cost him Celestine. But he will not allow it to happen again. His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the clinic opened. The nurse, who told him to call her 'Shanna' smiled at him.

"He's awake."

Blaine let out s sigh of relief as he stood up and followed the school nurse into the room.

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When Kurt saw Blaine, an inexplicable surge of warmth enveloped his lithe body: Blaine's lips curled up into an easy smile upon seeing him, but the smile did not reach the gorgeous hazel eyes.

"How are you, Kurt?"

The countertenor frowned. He could not determine any outright change in the other boy, but he felt that something was off –almost as if he was cut-off from Blaine –blocked. It was quite an odd sensation. The warmth instantly departed Kurt.

"I'm fine." The blue-eyed man said plainly. "I'm sorry about –"

"No problem," Blaine waved him off, his smile still half-way there. "I'm just glad you're okay." The dark-haired boy moved to touch Kurt, but at the very last moment before they connected skin to skin, he seemed to have changed his mind with a barely-there wince. It wasn't noticeable for the regular human, but Kurt did see the flinch. His heart gave an curious jolt –as if in pain, before resuming its normal rhythm. He forced a smile. "Thank you, still. You've done a lot for me today, more than you could ever imagine."

The words seemed to have a magical effect on Blaine however, as the smile that he was curtailing broke free of its restraints. "It was a pleasure to have met your acquaintance, Kurt." He said rather formally, with half-a bow to boot. "I do hope to see you tomorrow." Without another word, Blaine turned on his heel and left, leaving a baffled Kurt in his wake.

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There was a knock at the door to Principal Figgins' office. Dona, his secretary, was out for lunch.

"Come in."

The door swung open, revealing an auburn-haired, blue-eyed young man, wearing a crisp black button-down and acid-washed jeans. His wavy bangs covered most of his left eye. A gold pendant shaped link an ankh hung from his neck and glinted in the soft fluorescent light.

"Good afternoon, sir." A pair of dark eyebrows rose.

"And you are?"

"Morris, sir –Chandler Morris. I'm a transfer from Georgia." Figgins frowned in confusion. "I'm sorry Mr. Morris, but we certainly aren't expecting –"

Chandler smiled cryptically and raised his right hand. Figgins' eyes slid out of focus momentarily, before returning to its place, ushering in a look of realization on his distinct features. He handed the strange young man a piece of paper. "Ah, Mr. Morris, well, here is you class schedule. We hope you enjoy your schooling here at McKinley." Chandler reached for the proffered sheet with a wry grin.

"Thank you, Sir. I'm sure I will."

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Kurt sighed as he emptied his locker for the day. A signed slip from Shanna earned him an excuse to skip the rest of his afternoon classes. And to be honest, he wouldn't be having it any other way. He felt downright exhausted for some reason. Since lunch time, he had felt an inconsiderable drain in his energy level –his trip to the clinic was just the coup de grace.

'_I fainted! I fucking fainted –I NEVER FAINT!'_ The glasz-eyed junior slammed the locker door shut and gripped the strap of his leather mailman bag tighter…

And there was that weird vision involving Blaine.

'_And what the HELL was that? Blaine… he must think that I'm loony,'_ Kurt mused. _'I mean, what else would make him all of a sudden become distant and disappear on me like that? Crap. The very first friend that I really like a lot –and I scare him off –all in a span of one day too!'_

Kurt reached the parking lot in record time, despite his mind still caught up floating elsewhere. He was then fumbling for his car keys absent-mindedly, when somebody bumped into him from behind, causing him to drop his things.

"OWW! Watch where you're –" Kurt spun around to confront his assailant, but before he could even make a quarter turn, forceful hands shoved him against the side-door of his Navigator repeatedly.

"OWW! STOP! Stop it! What –"

The countertenor's cries did nothing; the hands continued to ram him into the car doo. And after about the 10th shove, the same rough hands grabbed Kurt's perfectly coifed hair, pulled him back, before guiding the rest of his head towards the side mirror.

'THUD! CRAAACK!'

It took no more than three minutes –and Kurt's pristine car was covered in blood splatters, its owner lying amongst the nearby bushes –barely conscious and bleeding to death.

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Blaine stepped on the brakes of his Camaro abruptly. He almost missed his own house. He reversed and backed up a bit until he was parked, right in front of a quaint-looking two-storey suburban house. A thick growth of ivy crept up the low cast-iron fence surrounding the red brick property, giving it an eerie look from the outside –almost giving it a feel of being unlived in. He switched the engine off and pulled the keys from the ignition.

'_I'm messing things up again even before I have the chance to start again.'_

His forehead connected with the padded steering wheel with a dull 'thud.' It certainly took more than that to cause him pain, but as soon as he hit the wheel, Blaine's head exploded in pain.

"ARGHHHH!"

Then, his insides decided to twist and wrench itself, it seemed.

"AHHHH –FUCK!"

His hands immediately flew to his front and sides to try and soothe the pain…

That was when his chest –his non-existent heart –started to pound madly.

"WHAT –WHAT –AHHH –THE –HECK –"

Blaine clenched his teeth as he tried to ride the pain that was surging through his whole being. It must be how it felt to have your nerves fried in hot oil, he briefly thought until his whole consciousness succumbed to the inevitable.

In about five minutes since the first wave of pain assaulted him, a dark-haired, hazel-eyed demon who went by the mortal name of Blaine Anderson, had passed out inside his 1967 Black Camaro, oblivious to his surroundings and the onslaught of peril threatening him and his other half.

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"Khalil, what brings you back so soon?" A sharp male voice asked from behind a veil. Blue eyes shone in the otherwise dark, cold room and bowed.

"I have located and identified Leo's new burrow, sir." The blue-eyed Khalil said respectfully, a hint of pride showing in his quiet voice. "I have yet to see him, but I got a read on his signature early today. It seems that he is becoming more careless as the decades go by."

"The Source was correct then?" The veiled voice asked again. Khalil nodded. "Precise, sir. It is Leo. We finally have him again." The veil shifted but did not reveal the face of the one behind it. "And what of the… human?"

Khalil sighed.

"I have yet to initiate contact –but I am 100% affirmative that it is the human who had caused Leo to become careless." The veil moved once again. "Very well, carry on with your task."

"Yes sir," Khalil nodded and bowed out of the room. He bit his lip as he felt his features shifting as he left the dark room. He had about a hundred different faces, quite literally, but this last one was by far his favorite. Who knew he looked good with read hair? He ran his fingers through his tousled waves as he made his way towards his ride: a steely, shiny motorcycle.

He had his orders. He will be the one to end this farce. He will finally kill that bastard Leo, get back what was his and forever be glorified by his kind.

"You will never get Celestine –in any way, shape or form," Khalil, a.k.a Chandler Morris smirked as he revved up his bike and snapped on his helmet. "I will follow you both in every lifetime you will ever live –and make sure of that."

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A gentle-looking woman with long, deep blonde hair and kind green eyes stood, watching a swirl of cloudy water as it began to spin faster like a vortex and take form. She wore a light silvery dress, seemingly made out of nothing but wisps of smoke. A heavy, ornate key of brass dangled from a chain around her delicate neck.

"It is time,"

The woman turned to the voice that spoke behind her and nodded once, before resuming watching the vortex, which now formed an archway above a locked wooden door. She slipped the chain off her neck and pushed the key into the hole provided for it. She turned it once and the door creaked open, bathing her in blinding light…

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Back in the realm of mortals, one Kurt Hummel was waking up on a hospital bed for the second time that day. But this time, gone was the calm serenity on his face…

On his delicate features was a look of pure shock.

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-END OF CHAPTER 5-

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**End A/N**_**: **_What happened to Kurt and Blaine? And who is Chadler/ Khalil? What does he want with Kurt/Celestine and Blaine/Leo? Up Next: **Chapter 6: Bonds of The Past-** Kurt awakens and Blaine reconnects with a lost love –Don't miss it! By the way, you can also check me and my stuff out at:

FACEBOOK: **C.M. Oliver is Eastwoodgirl**

FFNet: **C.M. Oliver is Eastwoodgirl**

Twitter: **C.M. Oliver** (a.t.) heyitschesca (#cmoliverfanfiction)

Tumblr: **klaineloveandsnarrydreams **(#cmoliverfanfiction)

_Until next time! Love, C._

P.S. Updates for this story will depend on reader demand. I am writing the succeeding chapters as I go along. **On a more pleasant note, I'm publishing a new CRISSCOLFER story called One True Love—Take Two. If you're into soulmates and second chances and slow-moving romances, please do take time to check it out. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.**


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